Shut up, my love

 

#vss365 

It was late evening, still one hour away from home, where the green backwater lakes are barely separated from the blue frothy sea by a thin shimmer of brown sand, when the British guy started to sing.

 

I could hear his voice across those separating walls. #Bass voice, not really a good singer, using an old style, a mixture of Bob Dylan or Al Stewart or Cat Stevens. Along with the chug-chugging train, the rickety-rackety beat of wheels on tracks, the evening birdsong and the rush of cool air from outside, he sang in bursts, with pauses while cooking up those lines I suppose, but clear and slow.

 

Nothing great but I still tried to catch each word with the guilt and delight of a voyeur and an eavesdropper. Grasping, gasping, grappling...for life...with life...

from

https://gatheredthoughts-swapna.blogspot.com/2011/01/tell-me-my-love.html